


Carry On, Daring Girl

by SummerStormFlower



Series: happy hearts and souls [4]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Ableism, Arguing, Blind Webby, Body Image, Brotherly Love, Bullying, Crying, Discrimination, Dysphoria, F/F, F/M, First Love, Friendship, Gen, Holly Duck, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Lena and Webby are girlfriends, Love, Love is the most important thing, Other, Peter Duck - Freeform, Peter is deaf, Phooey exists, Romance, Self-Esteem, Sibling Love, Sign Language, Teenagers, Trans Huey, Transphobia, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerStormFlower/pseuds/SummerStormFlower
Summary: Holly learns how hard it is to be in the workforce when you're trans. Violet is concerned with her body image and Louie's in a little over his head. Dewey helps Peter deal with a bully.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Phooey Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Donald Duck & Huey Duck, Huey Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Huey/Boyd, Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack, Louie Duck/Violet Sabrewing
Series: happy hearts and souls [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773076
Comments: 13
Kudos: 35





	Carry On, Daring Girl

Holly had always considered herself a busy person. She liked to multi-task. That was the reason why she wanted to get a part-time job in the first place. Uncle Donald had let her, since she got good grades in high school. So, she’d started working at a small restaurant as a waitress. It wasn’t exactly her dream job, but she enjoyed it. Plus, the apron was cute.

She’d been so excited.

Until she got fired.

She may or not have gotten angry. Or turned red in the face. Or started squawking like Uncle Donald. Holly had practiced techniques with her uncle to keep her temper in check. He had taught her to take deep breaths, to count to ten, to leave the room before a fight with one of her brothers could turn into a real fight. He had always told Holly that getting angry just hurts yourself in the end. Holly knew all of that.

But this time was different.

She wasn’t fired because she’d done something wrong. In fact, she was a great waitress. She was on top of orders, polite to customers, quick and efficient. She wasn’t fired for doing a bad job.

Her boss had pulled her aside in the kitchen and explained to her quietly, “I’ve been letting it slide, but the way you dress makes others uncomfortable. Unless you’re willing to dress appropriately, I’m afraid I have to let you go.”

There was nothing inappropriate about Holly’s clothes. She followed the dress code, just like everyone else did. What her boss meant, was that she had to stop wearing a skirt to work. Or else he had “no choice” but to fire her.

It was like Holly had forgotten everything Uncle Donald had told her. Once the meaning behind those words had sunk in, she lost it. Holly remembered very clearly seeing red. Everything else was somewhat vague. She was pretty sure she yelled. A lot. And, um... she might’ve flipped a table?? Her hand hurt, so it was a possibility. 

Now she was banned from that restaurant.

*

When Holly got home, her brothers, who were psychic, immediately knew something was wrong. Well, either that or Holly’s tendency to slam the door when she was upset.

“Whoa, bad day?” Dewey asked from the sofa. The three of them were watching Louie’s favourite show with subtitles.

Holly growled and kicked her shoes off at the wall. They collided with two equally loud bangs that made both Dewey and Louie flinch. Even Peter flinched at the vibration.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Dewey said.

Holly huffed, then began to speak and sign at the same time. “I got fired!” she shouted angrily. She was probably signing too fast for Peter to keep up, but she was too mad to care right now.

“What?! Why?” exclaimed Louie in surprise.

“Because I’m trans!” Holly practically yelled, seeing edges of red in her vision.

Her brothers stared at her in utter disbelief. None of them knew what to say.

Holly made an angry, lion-like sound and stomped her foot on the floor, then stormed upstairs to her room. The slam of her door made the house shake. 

*

It was a whole hour before anyone approached Holly. Which was probably a good thing, Holly decided. She had spent twenty minutes punching and screaming into her pillow, then writing swear words in her journal, and then doing jumping jacks to get her anger out. She’d needed that time by herself to cool off. She was much calmer now.

When there was a knock at her door, Holly assumed it was her brothers. She was surprised when it turned out to be Uncle Donald.

“Hey, honey. How you doing?” Donald asked his little girl with a gentle smile. Even though she was in high school now, he still considered her his little girl. 

Holly sighed heavily. She stretched until her back touched the floor with her legs up on her bed. “I was told to wear boy clothes,” she said, tone bland. It wasn’t like she wore a dress or a skirt everyday. She liked wearing pants too. Girls could wear pants. But it shouldn’t have mattered what she was wearing. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. To be told that she wasn’t allowed to dress the way that matched her brain... was infuriating.

“You can wear anything you want,” Donald said, sitting beside her legs on the bed. “Nobody gets to tell you what you can or can’t do.”

“I know that,” said Holly, and it felt nice to hear it out loud, “but I still got fired.” She hadn’t cared about what other people would think of her. Maybe she should’ve though. It was that lack of care that’d made her lose her job. Holly sighed again, shaking her head. “It’s not fair.”

Donald sighed sadly, rubbing her calf. “I’m really sorry to hear that. If I could make life easier for you, I would in a heartbeat.” Honestly, this was killing Donald inside. One of his babies had gone into the outside world and got bitten.

Holly dragged a hand down her face. “It’s not fair!” she said again, throwing her arm over her eyes, “If I was a real girl, I wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of crap.”

Donald gave her ankle a comforting squeeze. “Holly, you are a real girl,” he told her, “You can’t help the way your brain and body are made. You can’t choose. It’s not in your control.”

Holly sighed. “It sucks.”

“I know it does,” Donald said, patting her leg. He hated it when something upset his kids. There was nothing he hated more.

“What do I do now?” Holly then asked.

“I know how hard it is to lose your job,” Donald said empathetically. He’d had his share of experience. He could still remember the first time he’d been fired; it felt like the worse thing ever.

Holly remembered when they lived on the houseboat. Uncle Donald had struggled so hard to keep a job. He was always so stressed. He had tried to hide it, so as not to worry Holly and her brothers. But he wasn’t as good a liar as he thought he was.

“But don’t get discouraged,” Donald continued, “If you want, you can find a different part-time job.”

Holly thought about that for a moment. Did she want to try again? Well... that was what life was about, wasn’t it?

She nodded.

“Great,” Donald said with a grin, proud of his little girl and her ironclad will.

*

“Impatience” wasn’t a word Louie would apply to himself. He didn’t mind waiting. He had plenty of ways to pass the time. Phone, TV, video games. One time, while waiting for Dewey to get out of football practice, he’d even crocheted a hat to keep himself entertained. So yeah, Louie considered himself a patient guy.

But his phone was at 9% after he had charged it completely. Yeah, he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d left his yarn and hook at home.

“Violet, are you done yet?” he called. He was sitting on the stairs, waiting for his girlfriend to finish changing.

When he got no answer, Louie frowned. He stood up and went to knock on Violet’s bedroom door.

“Vi?”

He still got no answer. Slowly, Louie opened the door and poked his head in the room. Violet was normally very organized. Even more organized than Holly, who was a clean freak, and Webby, who needed everything in their proper spot so she could find them. Combined. 

Yet Louie could not see the floor. He was pretty sure every single piece of clothing Violet owned was on the floor. And then there was Violet, sitting in the corner, wearing one of her older sister’s oversized hoodies.

“What are you doing? We’re supposed to be on our date,” Louie said.

Violet sighed.

Recognition hit Louie. “Oh, I know what that sigh means,” he said, going to sit beside Violet and put his arm around her. “Something is bothering you.”

“Don’t touch me,” Violet said, pushing Louie’s arm off of her.

Louie’s eyes widened. For all her eye-rolling, he knew Violet liked his hugs. “What’s wrong?” he asked, giving her a respectful amount of space and refraining from touching her.

Violet let out a frustrated breath. “I keep gaining weight. I hate it,” she spat.

Louie blinked. Then he shook his head. “Vi, you’re not gaining weight. It’s called developing.”

“Then why haven’t I gotten taller?” Violet demanded hotly, and Louie was actually quite surprised by her tone.

“I don’t know,” Louie replied, “It’s different for girls, I guess. You know, guys get taller. Girls get wider hips.”

“Well, I don’t want wide hips!” Violet exclaimed, “I don’t want big thighs! Or big arms! Or big anything!”

Louie thought he saw Violet’s eyes turning red. He fought the urge to put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t say that,” he told her gently, “Being shapely is not the same thing as being big. And who cares about your shape or size? It’s not that big of deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me!” Violet snapped, “And if you were a good boyfriend, you’d understand that.”

Louie flinched at that.

Violet faltered, guilt flashing inside her eyes for a second. Then she looked away from Louie.

Louie inhaled and exhaled. For as much as words was his strong point, they could also be his downfall. “I’m sorry,” he then said, standing up, “I can’t understand. So I’ll just... get out of your way.”

Violet still didn’t look at him.

Louie sighed. Then he left.

*

Dewey was pretty popular at school. He was one of the best players on his team. People loved him. He made everyone laugh. He loved high school. Not the textbook stuff, but he loved the environment. It was social, it was friendly, and Dewey like always having someone to talk to.

But it wasn’t friendly to everybody. Certainly not to Holly. Sometimes not even to Louie for some reason. And Dewey’s siblings were way more important than his image, so of course he protected them. He had defended them against strangers, against teachers, against his own friends. He didn’t participate in rumours or trash talk toward anyone at all. Some of the popular kids didn’t like him for it; called him a prude or a goody-two-shoes. Some thought he was a hero.

Uncle Donald taught him never to give into peer pressure. Taught him that it didn’t matter what others thought about him. Dewey tried to stay true to that. 

Nobody messed with Holly or Louie and got away with it. Not on Dewey’s watch. 

And nobody, NOBODY, messed with Dewey’s baby brother. Or at least, he thought he’d made that very clear. If he didn’t let anyone pick on his other siblings, why the heck would they think that Peter was the exception?

Yet it happened.

Dewey turned down the corner and spotted a guy on the football team and a cheerleader, pushing Peter around.

“What, cat got your tongue? Oh wait! That’s right, you can’t hear!”

“Your voice sounds so weird.”

“Shouldn’t you be in some special school for deaf kids, or something?”

Holly was the one who’d inherited Uncle Donald’s temper. Out of the four of them, she was the one most likely to get angry. Dewey was usually carefree. He may not have been very smart, but he know how people worked. He knew how to handle tough situations with grace.

But this time was different. He actually saw a little bit of red.

“Hey!” Dewey shouted, walking over to the football player and the cheerleader. “What the hell are you doing?! Get away from him!” He physically shoved himself between the two of them and Peter. If he could, he would’ve just made them disappear. He wanted them as far away from Peter as possible.

“Chill! We’re just teasing him,” laughed the player.

“It didn’t sound like that to me!” Dewey said, having a hard time controlling his volume. He really just wanted to scream.

“It’s not like he can hear us,” the cheerleader argued obnoxiously.

Dewey felt Peter flinch behind him. His anger intensified. “He can lipread! He knows what you’re saying!”

“Dude, it’s not like-”

“Go the fuck AWAY!” Dewey yelled.

The two stood there for a moment more, glaring at Dewey. Then finally, they left.

Dewey huffed. “Jerks,” he muttered, throwing an arm around Peter. Then he turned to his brother. {You okay?} he signed.

Peter looked down without responding.

Dewey touched his shoulder to get him to look up. {Hey, don’t be sad} he said, {They were assholes. Ignore them}

Peter sighed sadly. {I can’t help it if my voice sounds weird}

Dewey frowned. He didn’t like it when Peter was sad. He smiled gently and ruffled Peter’s hair. {You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You never deserve to be treated like that}

Peter nodded. He still looked sad though.

{C’mon, I’ll buy you an ice cream after school} Dewey said, throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders again.

Peter just nodded.

*

Louie fell on his back on Holly’s bed, groaning.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Webby asked, recognizing that groan as Louie’s way of saying ‘I need to complain’.

Holly, Dewey, Louie, Peter and Webby were all hanging out in Holly’s room.

Louie rolled over and pulled his hood up. “Girls are so complicated,” he muttered.

Holly frowned at him from her desk. “No, we’re not.”

“Actually, some of us are,” Webby said, sitting up. “Like Lena. I keep asking her what she wants for her birthday, but she won’t tell me!”

“Okay, whatever! Violet is complicated!” Louie exclaimed.

“Ooh,” said Dewey, now interested, “Trouble in paradise?”

Beside him, Peter elbowed his side.

Louie sighed. “We had a fight.”

“What about?” Peter asked.

“Well... personal stuff. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you,” Louie responded.

“What did she say then?” Webby asked, reaching over to poke his shoulder. She poked him in the head instead.

“She said that I didn’t understand how she feels,” Louie said, batting weakly at Webby’s hand. She kept poking him.

“You should talk to her,” Webby told him.

“Yeah, and really listen to what she says,” Holly added, setting her pencil down, “A lot of guys don’t listen.”

Peter smiled. “Why don’t you just stab us in the heart?” he joked.

Dewey thrusted his fist against his chest. “Oh no!” he cried dramatically, falling over, “My pride! My manly pride!”

Holly shook her head fondly, turning back to her homework.

“But what if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Louie asked worriedly, curling up. He grunted when Webby poked him harder.

“You’ll never know until you try,” she said.

Louie was quiet for a moment. “I guess you’re right,” he mumbled then. Webby poked him again. “Ow.”

“Hey, where do you guys think I should work?” Holly asked, looking up from her homework again.

Dewey frowned at her. “I thought you were gonna work at that clothes shop?”

“I was,” Holly said, glaring at the floor and crossing her arms, “But then I went in there. The second they heard my voice, they turned me away.”

“What? Seriously?” Webby asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“That’s stupid! They don’t even turn blind people away like that.”

“Honestly, why does that matter?” Dewey said, frustrated for his sister.

Holly sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know why. Just because my brain is different doesn’t mean I’m not a good worker.”

“Exactly,” Louie agreed, “They should focus on your qualifications. You have amazing qualifications! It’s really their loss.”

A smile lit up Holly’s face. “Thanks, Lou.”

“Some people are just jerks,” said Peter.

Dewey nodded. “Yeah. Like yesterday, Pete ran into these-” Dewey was abruptly cut off when Peter shoved his hand over his mouth.

Holly and Louie arched their eyebrows.

“Peter ran into what?” Holly asked.

{Nothing} Peter signed, not looking any of them in the eye.

Dewey stared incredulously at him.

“What?! He ran into what?!” Webby exclaimed, reaching over to swat Louie’s shoulder. She swatted his head instead.

“Ow!”

“He said nothing,” Holly told her.

“Oh.”

“Sorry Webby,” Peter apologized. Sometimes he forgot that she couldn’t see his signs.

“That’s okay,” Webby said. Then she crawled over to where Louie was laying, climbing on top of him ungraciously, much to his displeasure. “Anyways!”

“Webs, get off me.”

“I need you guys to help me figure out a birthday present for Lena!”

“Ow!”

“I want her birthday to be perfect! And I really wanna get her something that’ll tell her how much I love her, and-”

“Quit poking me!”

*

Louie prided himself on his ability to stay calm, no matter the situation. Well, most situations. Because this was not one of them. His nerves were going crazy, actually. 

He took a deep breath. Then he knocked on the door.

Violet answered. At the sight of him, guilt flashed inside her eyes and she looked at the ground.

“Hey,” Louie said.

“Hey,” Violet said back.

Louie bit his lip. He tucked his hands in his hoodie pocket. It was a nervous habit of his. “I think we should talk,” he said.

Violet sighed. Then she nodded. She let him in and they went to sit on the sofa. Louie could hear Ty in the kitchen. He was pretty sure Indy was at work today and Lena was on a date with Webby.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t listen to you,” Louie said genuinely. The last thing he wanted was for his girlfriend to feel taken for granted, or like she couldn’t tell Louie anything.

“I’m sorry I called you a bad boyfriend,” Violet said.

Louie smiled. “We good?”

Violet smiled back and slipped her hand in his. “Yeah.”

The weight on Louie’s heart disappeared. “Good.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “So... tell me how you feel?” he asked gently.

Violet’s smile fell and she leaned her head on Louie’s shoulder, sighing. “I just...” She sighed again, searching for the right words. She was quiet as she thought. “Most days, I wake up and I just... feel really ugly.”

Her response made Louie’s soul ache. “But Violet, you’re beautiful.”

“Then why don’t I feel beautiful?”

Louie opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t think of a single way to change Violet’s mind. He couldn’t think of anything to say that was helpful. Every sentence he conjured up felt nothing but empty. Violet didn’t need empty sentences.

He sighed, and simply hugged her.

Violet snuggled against his chest.

The only sound was the ticking of the clock.

*

They didn’t used to have a lot of money. They didn’t used to live in a mansion. Uncle Donald did his best to give them as many happy memories as possible. And he had. Birthdays, Christmases, family outings, picnics, games, movie nights. But they still hadn’t had a lot of money.

Holly had known that “boy” didn’t fit for as long as she could remember. She remembered Uncle Donald explaining to her, “there’s a type of medication that can help you feel more comfortable” when she was thirteen. But they hadn’t had the money for it.

So instead, Uncle Donald taught her other ways to be more comfortable. He helped her grow her hair out. He showed her how to shave her legs. He showed her how to tuck safely. He bought her a bra. And on days when her dysphoria was bad, he would hold her until she felt brave enough to face the world. He even helped her with her makeup. And Uncle Donald had known next to nothing about makeup.

Being a parent was no easy task. Being the parent of a child with gender dysphoria was harder. But in Holly’s opinion, Uncle Donald had done a five star job.

She was lucky in certain ways, as well. She was tall, but not that tall. She’d had the good fortune of not growing facial hair. She may not have had curves, but she was small like a girl. She could go out and she knew people saw a teenage girl when they saw her.

There was just one thing that caused her downfall. Her voice. She had a low voice.

Sometimes it helped to use sign language. Nobody needed to hear her then. But not everyone knew how to speak sign. And she never wanted to disrespect Peter by pretending to be deaf, so she tried not to do it often.

In her experience, people weren’t too kind after they’d heard her voice. 

“What do you mean I can’t use the dressing rooms?”

The cashier crossed her arms, looking down at Holly like she wasn’t a person. “Exactly what I said,” she said.

Holly swallowed thickly. She wasn’t having a good day and the way the cashier was looking at her hurt a lot. “Why not?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Guys don’t wear dresses.”

Holly breathed shakily, trying to blink back the sudden wetness in her eyes. She dropped the dress on the floor. It looked professional and very business-like. She’d thought it’d be great for a job interview.

Holly swallowed and bit her tongue. She felt like crap, but she wasn’t about to let some judgmental stranger add their crap on top of her own.

“That is extremely rude of you,” she said, trying her best to speak strongly, “Clothes are just fabric. Why can’t boys wear dresses? Would you say that to a starving, naked little boy?”

The cashier’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Holly standing up for herself.

Uncle Donald told her to never let anyone tell she can’t do something.

Holly continued calmly and sternly, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, then you shouldn’t say anything at all. I hope one day, you realize how rude and arrogant it was of you to tell me what to wear.”

Then Holly turned and walked out of the store without waiting for the cashier to reply. When she got outside, she sighed and leaned against the wall beside the doors. 

Holly huffed a laugh. That felt good.

*

{You didn’t need to go off like that!}

{Go off? Oh, excuse me for getting a little mad! Excuse me for being a good brother!}

{You punched that guy in the face!}

{He was being a jerk to you!}

Would Dewey consider himself overprotective? Yes. Very much so. Uncle Donald had instilled it in him, ‘You take care of your family’. So when Dewey saw Peter getting bullied again, he’d jumped into action.

{I don’t need you to protect me! I’m not a little kid!} Peter said, face scrunched in an angry scowl.

{Yeah, you could’ve fooled me} Dewey fired back, rolling his eyes sarcastically. He honestly could not figure out why Peter was upset, or why he was taking it out on him. He didn’t feel bad and he was not about to apologize for doing nothing wrong.

Peter’s scowl deepened.

{Seriously, what’s up?} Dewey asked, not wanting to argue for any longer. {Why are you acting like this? Why didn’t you let me tell Holly and Louie about what happened?}

{Nothing!} Peter said, sighing long and annoyed, {I just don’t wanna be treated like a little kid!}

{Well, you’re acting like one!} said Dewey, getting fed up himself.

{Just shut up! Leave me alone!} was the last thing Peter said to him before he walked away, shoving past his shoulder.

Great. Dewey groaned. Just great.

*

Louie was on a date with Violet. Dewey and Peter hadn’t been speaking for some reason. So that left just Holly and Webby. They were laying together on Webby’s bed, facing the ceiling.

“I can’t find a job,” Holly sighed, bouncing her foot absentmindedly. 

“I can’t find the perfect present for Lena,” Webby said, propping her knee up while her other leg dangled over the edge of her bed.

“Why is my being trans a big thing? All I ask is to be respected. And why should my clothes make other people uncomfortable?”

“If only she would just tell me what she wants. Don’t make your blind girlfriend guess.”

“What if this means I can’t get a job when I’m older? What if I end up on the streets?”

“Why does this relationship thing have to be so difficult?”

“Webby, are you even listening to me?”

“How am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?!”

“Webby.”

“What?”

Holly sat up and looked at her friend. There was a pout etched on Webby’s face. Holly grinned. “You know what, never mind,” she giggled, laying back down.

“Sorry. It’s just...” Webby whined, “I love Lena! I really do! She’s just so... so... ugh!” She kicked the mattress with her heel.

Holly laughed. “Lou says that about Vi sometimes,” she said, “Boyd makes me feel like that sometimes too.”

Webby sighed. Then she smiled dreamily. “Love is like that, huh?”

Holly thought about Boyd, her chest full of fuzzy feelings instantly. “Yeah,” she agreed with a happy sigh.

“I’m sure you’ll find a job soon,” Webby said.

“You really think so?” Holly asked.

“Yeah. And if you don’t, you can live me and Lena.”

“... Will my bedroom be next to yours?”

“... No?”

“... Good.”

Webby threw a pillow at Holly. She missed by a mile.

*

There was nothing to do and nothing good on TV. Louie groaned, sinking into the couch cushions. It was just him and Holly home today. Everyone else was out. Webby had gone shopping for Lena’s birthday present and Peter went with her to help. Dewey was somewhere with Uncle Donald and Mom.

“Can’t we watch a documentary?” Holly pouted beside him.

“Noooooo!” Louie responded, dramatically shoving his face into the cushions.

“You’re not even watching!”

“My remote!”

“Lou-”

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine-”

“Okay, fine!” Holly huffed and crossed her arms. She stuck her bottom lip out. “You never let me pick.”

Louie stretched, until he was hanging half off the couch like a noodle. He sighed. He had too much on his mind to watch TV.

Holly eyed him curiously. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

Louie stretched a little more, until he hit the floor. He kept on leg on the sofa and sprawled the other over the coffee table. “It’s Violet,” he sighed again.

Holly played with her sleeves, hiding her hands in them. Louie didn’t remember Holly ever owning a hoodie, so it was probably Boyd’s.

“I thought you’d made up with her.”

“We did make up. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Louie sighed, slinging his arm over his eyes. “She told me she feels ugly.”

“Oh,” Holly said, shoulders slumping sadly. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Louie replied, “I didn’t know what to say.”

Holly was quiet.

Louie sat up and climbed back on the sofa, placing his legs on Holly’s lap. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, “I know she’s not ugly. But she genuinely believes she is. I don’t know how to change her mind.”

Holly shook her head. “You can’t change her mind,” she said.

Louie raised his eyebrows. “But she’s not ugly-”

“She can’t see herself through your eyes,” Holly told him. She hung her head. “As sad as that is.”

Louie’s chest ached, feeling like a rock was wedged in his lungs. He licked his lips, blinking rapidly. Was this apart of loving someone? Hurting when they hurt?

“Listen. Take it from someone who knows what it’s like to hate their body,” Holly began, fiddling with that loose thread in Louie’s jeans.

Oh yeah. If it was anyone who could understand, at least a little, of what Violet felt, it’d be Holly. Louie had this one memory from when they were five; of Holly, holding a knife, crying, and saying she didn’t want to be a boy. Louie had never been so horrified. That was something he would never forget.

“Just tell her how beautiful you think she is. Often. Everyday. It goes a long way.”

Louie thought about that for a moment. Then he nodded. He could do that.

“Now,” Holly said, and that was all the warning Louie got before she jumped on him. “Let me watch that documentary!”

“Noooooo!” Louie exclaimed, laughing, as he struggled.

“Documentary!”

“The remote is mine!”

*

Dewey had skipped breakfast, so by the time lunch had come around, he was hungry. He wandered into the kitchen, craving an apple. He stopped when he saw Peter at the fridge.

Ever since their fight a couple days ago, they hadn’t spoken. Maybe it was time to end that.

Dewey tapped Peter’s shoulder.

{Oh. Hey} Peter said when he turned to him.

{Hey. I think we should talk} Dewey replied.

Peter looked hesitant at first. Then he rolled his eyes in annoyance and sighed. {Fine} he agreed, then gestured at the table.

Dewey grabbed an apple and they went to sit down.

{Why did you get mad at me?} Dewey asked.

{I didn’t mean to} Peter said, but he was averting his eyes.

{Then why did you?} Dewey asked once again.

Peter didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he reached up to rub at his eye. {Because I’m weak}

Dewey frowned. {What?}

{That’s why they pick on me. Because the deaf kid’s weak}

{Hey, no. Don’t talk about yourself like that}

{The worst part is what they said actually really hurt. A lot}

Dewey was not about to just sit there and let his brother talk bad about himself. He scooted closer to Peter. {Just because something hurts doesn’t make you weak} he said.

Peter rubbed his eye again.

Dewey squeezed his shoulder. {It’s okay to be strong and hurt.}

Peter stared at him.

{Okay?} Dewey asked.

Peter nodded.

{Good} Dewey said, then pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Peter smiled, leaning comfortably against Dewey’s side. {Thanks, bro}

{Hey, I love ya. And if anyone picks on you again, I’m breaking their nose this time} Dewey grinned when that made Peter laugh.

*

Louie watched Violet examining her reflection. She was wearing one of the skirts Louie had made for her. Her eyes lingered on her hips in the mirror.

Louie smiled at her. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Violet turned to him, huffing. “That’s what you think.

“Yup,” Louie agreed, “I think you are positively gorgeous. The girl of my dreams.”

Violet looked surprised. Then she looked a little embarrassed. Then she was trying to hide her tiny smile.

Louie grinned. It did go a long way.

*

Holly took a deep breath, steeling herself. She had to do this. This was the only way. The only way. She had to keep telling herself that.

Wait, hold on... Maybe this was a bit extreme.

No. This was the only way.

Sometimes you had to make sacrifices. You can’t always have everything you want. Sometimes you just had to put up with crap you didn’t want to. 

Sometimes life won. And you didn’t.

Holly took another deep breath. Then she grabbed the scissors.

*

Louie had the TV on, but he wasn’t really watching it. His eyes were on his phone, as he was texting with Violet. 

“Kay, I have an interview. I’m going,” called Holly’s voice from the stairs.

Louie glanced up at her. “Kay bye.” He turned back to his phone. Then he froze, wide-eyed.

Whoa, wait.

He looked at Holly again. Did she really...?

Holy shit, she did.

Louie jumped off the sofa. “Holly, what the hell?!” he shouted, blocking her way to the door.

“What?!” Holly shouted back.

Louie stared at her, jaw hanging open. He could not believe it. “Why the hell did you cut your hair?!”

Holly flinched back, touching her short hair self-consciously. Not only that, but she was wearing some of Dewey’s clothes, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. She WASN’T wearing a bra. Holly slept in her bra most nights. She hated taking it off.

Louie was so shocked, it took a moment for his brain to power back up. When he could think again, he frowned at his sister. “Did you do that for your interview?” he asked.

When Holly didn’t answer, Louie knew it was true.

“You hate your hair short! Why would you do that?”

“Because-!” Holly drew a shaky breath. The way she was running her fingers through her hair, Louie could tell it was killing her. “Because this is the only way I can get a job!”

Louie blinked at her. “What?” he asked quietly.

Holly’s eyes were turning red now. “I can’t get a job any other way,” she said, nearly squeaking on the last word. “What if I can’t live like a normal person when I’m an adult? What if I can’t make my own money? What if I can’t support myself?” she continued, and Louie could tell by the fear in her eyes that she’d been thinking about this for awhile. “I just have to pretend I’m not trans at work. I can be who I am at home, but not at work. I can do that.”

Louie was quiet at first, mouth in a tense line. “No you can’t, Holly,” he said then, “That would hurt you too much.”

“So what?!” Holly exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air angrily. “I’m already hurting! What’s a little more hurt?”

“Life is not about hurting!” Louie shouted, almost at the top of his lungs, the need to protect his sister burning inside his chest. “Dammit Holly, you can’t purposely inflict pain on yourself! That’s not living! What’s more important?! Your health and happiness, or getting a stupid job before you even need one?!!”

Holly’s breath stuttered. She stood there, water filling her eyes, unsure of how to respond.

Louie knew he’d knocked the sense back into her.

Holly sniffled. “My health and happiness,” she whimpered.

Louie relaxed in relief and nodded his head. “That’s right,” he said softly.

Then Holly was crying, pulling on her hair until it hurt.

“Come here,” Louie told her, taking her hand before she pulled her hair out. He gently dragged her into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“I-I can’t-” Holly hiccuped, “My hair-”

“It’ll grow back. It’s okay,” Louie comforted, “You’re okay. I got you.”

*

Holly gulped nervously, as Uncle Donald studied her hair. “Can you fix it?” she asked, biting her bottom lip. 

Donald nodded. “I can. I’ll have to make it shorter, but it’ll look less choppy,” he told her. He put his hand on his little girl’s shoulder. “Is that okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Holly replied.

“Okay.” Donald picked up the comb and scissors.

“Hey, Uncle Donald?” Holly asked after a few minutes.

“Hmm?” Donald hummed to show he was listening.

“There’s this thing called ‘voice training’,” Holly began, “There are people, coaches, who can teach me how to heighten my voice. Like a girl.”

Donald already knew where this was going. “Yeah?” he encouraged Holly to continue.

Holly blew a strand of hair off her nose. “I want to do that,” she said, “Can I?”

Donald smiled, then leaned down to press a kiss to Holly’s cheek. “Of course you can,” he replied.

“Really? We have the money?” Holly asked in surprise.

“Scrooge does,” Uncle Donald said.

Holly’s eyes widened. “You’re going to ask Uncle Scrooge for money? Will he say yes?”

“If this is something that you think will benefit you, of course he’ll say yes. You kids are important to that old geezer, even though he won’t admit it. That includes your happiness.”

Holly grinned slowly, excitement bubbling inside her chest.

*

Holly tried not to wince in discomfort when Boyd touched her hair. They were watching a movie in the living room together. Holly had finally wrestled the remote from Louie.

“It looks weird, doesn’t it?” she said.

Boyd smiled at her and shook his head. He stroked his fingers through her hair, then cupped her face in his hand. “You’re the most beautiful girl to me, no matter what you look like,” he said.

Holly’s heart soared. When Boyd leaned in for a kiss, she giggled happily.

She would be just fine. As long as she carried on, she would be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did some research for this. It was very interesting and I have a better understanding of what dysphoria is now. Hope you liked this! Thank you for reading!


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